


Charred Feathers

by Spannah339



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: Angst, Dream is a jerk in this, GUYS STOP USING REAL NAMES OH MY GOSH I HATE IT HERE, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I had nether whump on the brain, Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Panic Attacks, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, The Nether (Minecraft), Toby Smith | Tubbo Needs a Hug, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Whump, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Winged TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wings, and other characters are in super breifly, and was like 'he's mine now', how could i forget that's like the whole premise, i hate tagging for this fandom, in the sense that wilbur saw a feral child, puffy and ranboo aren't in for long, wilbur is still very dead btw, wing whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29257428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spannah339/pseuds/Spannah339
Summary: Dream lowered the axe, and Tommy let out a small sigh of relief, feathers shivering slightly.“I’ll tell you what, let’s strike a deal.” He pointed the axe at Tommy, hand still on Tubbo’s hair, not even looking at the shorter boy. “I’ll let Tubbo live, he might be useful later, but you still have to lose something.” He paused, tipping his face again and Tommy could sense the smirk behind the mask. “How about those wings? You won’t be needing them where you’re going.”__aka Punz and the gang shows up late during the finale, Tommy has wings and Dream gives him another choice. Plus Nether survival because that's currently all I can think about. And a bit of Sleepy Bois angst thrown in because I'm Sleepy Bois trash.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 16
Kudos: 592
Collections: Cheshire's MCYT recs!, Found family to make me feel something, MCYT Fic Rec, rye's lifeblood (alternatively titled: rye's favorites)





	Charred Feathers

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [sweetheart, you look a little tired](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28435620) by [sky_blue_hightops](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_blue_hightops/pseuds/sky_blue_hightops). 



> I Dislike posting for this fandom ao3 does not make it easy. 
> 
> Anyway craving whump craving wings why not both let's go. I love how season 2 ended but more pain is always fun! 
> 
> also shoutout to Zeeb for helping me brainstorm/inspiring me with winged fics go read their one.

Tommy was aware of everything in fine detail. 

The rough stone under his feet, uneven and harsh. The stinging cuts and bruises that scattered across his arms and face. The soft hum of the Nether portal. His breathing, short and sharp. His heart, beating a painful pace. The sharp scent of blood in the air. The light, reflecting off Dream’s emotionless mask, off the axe he held in his hand, off the tears shimmering on Tubbo’s cheeks as Dream stood over him. 

Tubbo was on his knees, one of Dream’s hands in his hair. Dream held the axe of peace in his other hand, holding its blade uncomfortably close to Tubbo’s neck. 

Tommy couldn’t take his eyes off his friend. Tubbo, despite the tear tracks down his face, was smiling, a soft, contented, sad smile that made Tommy’s heart ache even more. 

“Dream-” he began, his voice hoarse and choked. Dream didn’t answer, simply lifted the axe and though he clearly tried to hide it, Tommy could see the way Tubbo tensed. He took an involuntary half step forward, wings flaring in alarm behind him. “Please.” 

Dream paused, his mask tipping slightly to one side. For a moment, Tommy felt a rush of hope - maybe there was still a way out of this, maybe they could both survive. 

Dream lowered the axe, and Tommy let out a small sigh of relief, feathers shivering slightly. 

“I’ll tell you what, let’s strike a deal.” He pointed the axe at Tommy, hand still on Tubbo’s hair, not even looking at the shorter boy. “I’ll let Tubbo live, he might be useful later, but you still have to lose something.” He paused, tipping his face again and Tommy could sense the smirk behind the mask. “How about those wings? You won’t be needing them where you’re going.” 

Tommy stiffened, curling his wings protectively around himself. He had only just regained the confidence to fly, only just begun caring for them again after his exile. He didn’t want to lose that. 

But Tubbo was on his knees, eyes wide, still bleeding from his many wounds. 

“Fine,” Tommy snarled. “I’ll let you clip my wings again.” His voice shook slightly as he spoke, and he hoped it wasn’t noticeable. 

Dream chuckled, adjusting his grip on Tubbo to haul the boy up by the shoulder. Still giving all his attention to Tommy, Dream withdrew a length of rope and quickly bound Tubbo’s hands. 

“You really think I’ll let you off that easily? Oh no, it’s so much more _fun_ when you’re grounded.” He shoved Tubbo to the ground behind him, the boy catching himself with his bound hands and glaring up at Dream as the masked man stepped past him. “Oh no,” Dream said, his voice low, his grip on the axe tight and confident. Tommy took an uncertain step backwards, wings flared and puffed up in his fear. “I’ll be taking them. I’ll hang them on my wall as a trophy, a memory of all the fun we’ve had together!” 

“Tommy don’t!” Tubbo said. He pushed himself to his knees, bound hands resting on his legs. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay. We’ve said goodbye.” His voice was even, accepting, quiet and Tommy felt low rage building in his chest.

Dream wanted his wings. Dream wanted to ground him, permanently this time. Dream wanted to take away the familiar weight from his back, the warmth of his feathers, the comfort that came with cocooning himself in his wings. 

“Are you insane?” he spat, barely thinking. “I’m not going to let you f-” 

“If you say so,” Dream interrupted smoothly. He turned, stepping back to where Tubbo knelt and wrenched the boy’s head up again to expose his neck. Tommy froze, heart skipping a beat, blood pounding in his ears. Tubbo bit down on a choked noise of surprise and fear, eyes flashing with panic before settling back into the resigned, expressionless look Tommy was growing uncomfortably familiar with. 

He froze a moment longer as Dream drew back his hand, axe lined up directly with Tubbo’s throat. The thought of being grounded _terrified_ Tommy - reminded him too much of exile, of being trapped in a canyon with a maddening brother. 

But Tubbo was before him, and the axe of Peace was beginning to move. 

“Alright!” he cried. “Alright, fine. Just... let Tubbo go.” He dropped to his knees, wings drooping behind him. 

“Oh, I won’t be doing that,” Dream said, a smile to his voice. “I’m beginning to realize he’s far too useful to just let wander free.” 

“Don’t,” Tubbo breathed, and Tommy looked up to meet his eyes. They were shimmering with tears, and Tommy forced himself to smile. 

“It’s okay, Tubbo,” he muttered. Then Dream dragged Tubbo a few meters away, binding his feet and quickly gagging him. Tommy took a shaky breath and lowered his gaze, not wanting to see Tubbo’s reaction to what was about to happen. 

A hand pressed into the small of his back and Tommy stiffened, heart rate leaping. Before he had a chance to brace himself, Dream shoved him forward, face slamming painfully into the hard stone floor. 

A knee dug into his back, a hand on his hair and Tommy’s heartbeat quickened further, his breath coming in short burst. It was hard to breathe, Dream’s weight on his back stifling, bringing back far too many bad memories. 

_Focus!_ He had to focus. Maybe he had a chance - but it was only going to be one, and he needed to be alert, needed to not give into his bad memories. 

But his chest was tight and Dream’s hand shifted from his hair to his wing and despite himself, he let out a muffled whimper of fear. 

_Sand under his face, a hand on his back, the rhythmic snipping of shears, feathers falling around him and he was alone, alone, alone but for one friend._

“Don’t worry,” Dream’s voice soothed, and Tommy hated that it helped, that he already felt himself leaning back into old habits, old thought patterns. 

_“He’s not my friend he’s not my friend he’s not my friend he nearly killed Tubbo_.” 

The cold chill of metal pressed against the base of his right wing, right where it connected to his back. Tommy fought down an involuntary shudder, closing his eyes and focusing on breathing. 

One chance. He had one chance. 

He shut his eyes and breathed. In and out, in and out, in and out. He could hear Tubbo’s muffled sounds, could hear the portal humming, could sense Dream shifting on top of him. 

One chance. 

He breathed in.

Dream lifted his arm. 

He breathed out. 

Dream moved. 

And Tommy rolled. 

He spun, pushing himself upwards and to the side and slamming his wing into Dream’s face to throw him off. Searing _pain_ shot through Tommy’s whole body and he cried out and staggered back a pace. The axe of peace, freshly bloodied, skidded across the floor, landing a few paces away from Tubbo. 

Tommy didn’t hesitate. Dream was dazed on the ground and Tommy ran, ignoring the way his wing hung painfully behind him. He snatched up the axe of peace in one hand, skidding to Tubbo’s side and quickly cutting his legs free, hauling him to his feet. Then, one hand gripping the axe, the other gripping Tubbo’s bound hands, he sprinted towards the portal. 

They burst through, the heat slamming into them like a wall. Tommy didn’t stop, even though the heat bore down on him, stole his breath, not paying any attention to where he was going - he was just _running,_ half dragging Tubbo behind him. 

Dream was going to come after them - he knew it. Honestly, he was half surprised they had made it this far. But he wasn’t going to go down without a fight - he was _never_ going to go down without a fight. 

He ran blindly, focusing on the netherack under his feet and Tubbo’s hands clutching onto his. His chest was heaving, his wing was sending a sharp burst of pain through his whole body that blurred his vision every time he moved.

Abruptly, he felt Tubbo stop, tugging his hand. He paused, wiping a shaking hand across his face to remove non-existent sweat and looked back at his friend. Tubbo was nodding towards a small gap in the wall of the red cliff beside them. Tommy didn’t hesitate as he ducked into the small space behind his friend. 

It was a fraction cooler in the cave and they scrambled back as far as they could go, pressing themselves against the wall, just breathing as well as they could in the thick heat of the Nether air. 

Tommy was shaking, his breath coming in short bursts. It was hard to breathe and his chest felt tight, his head was spinning and he couldn’t _breathe._

Tubbo’s bound hands rested gently on his shoulder and he stiffened, pulling away and taking a sharp breath. He dropped the axe of peace, burying his face in his hands and gasping, chest tight, shaking. 

_“Breathe. Breathe. Tubbo needs you, you need to_ BREATHE.” 

He couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe, he could still feel Dream’s hand on his back, hand in his hair, soothing voice, armour in a hole, explosions and he couldn’t _breathe_. 

“Tommy? Can you hear me?” 

He nodded jerkily, not looking up, curling into himself. (It was too hot it was too hot he couldn’t _breathe_ and the lava grinned up at him and Dream’s voice echoed through his mind (useless useless useless he was useless) and Wilbur was laughing and laughing and laughing and-) 

“Breathe with me.” Tubbo’s voice was even and he focused on it, tried to pull himself out of the memories that threatened to overwhelm him. “In for eight. Hold. And out again.” 

They sat for what felt like an age, Tubbo softly walking him through the breathing until the pressure on his chest seemed to ease and Tommy felt like he could breathe again. Shakily, he looked up to see Tubbo crouched in front of him, one hand hovering nervously near Tommy’s shoulder. 

“I’m here,” Tubbo said and that was the best thing he could have said, a confirmation that he was here, that they were both here, now, and that for this brief, stolen moment they were safe. Tommy let out another shaky breath and nodded, feeling too exhausted to say anything. “I need to look at your wing,” Tubbo continued, his voice still even, still calming. 

Despite himself, Tommy stiffened. He really didn’t want anyone to be anywhere _near_ his wings right now, even Tubbo. Tubbo must have seen the reaction because he sat back, the concern clear in his eyes. 

“Dream managed to nick it,” he explained. “I’m not sure how bad it is, but… there’s a lot of blood - I might need to bandage it, or tie your wing to your back so it doesn’t drag and get worse.” 

Tommy hesitated, the bubbling panic threatening to resurface. But this was Tubbo, and if he trusted _anyone_ it was Tubbo, even after everything that had happened. And his wing _hurt_ and he’d been wounded enough times to know if it wasn’t dealt with soon he might lose his flight after all. 

So he nodded slowly and shifted, revealing his wings to Tubbo and trying to stretch them out. The moment he moved his right wing blinding pain shot through him and he gasped, swaying forward and catching himself on the warm rock, vision flickering. 

“He cut deep,” Tubbo said quietly. “I’m going to have to bandage it, okay? Can I touch you?” Tommy nodded stiffly, shivering slightly when Tubbo laid a gentle hand on his back, carefully wrapping his wing, pulling it tight. “I had to use my gag,” he said apologetically. “We don’t have anything else.” 

Again, Tommy nodded, wrapping his left wing around himself in an attempt at comfort and running his fingers nervously through the feathers. Tubbo carefully let go of his other wing and it dropped, pain shooting through Tommy. He hissed, balling his fists and fighting back tears. 

“Okay… I’ll have to tie it to you, alright? Then the rope will keep it up and hopefully, it won’t hurt quite as much.” He let out a low breath and once again asked Tommy if he could touch him. Again, Tommy nodded, and Tubbo carefully used what little rope they had to fashion a rough sling for the wing, tying it tightly to Tommy’s body. 

When he was finished, Tommy turned to face him, getting a proper look at his friend for the first time since they had escaped. 

His hands were shaking and bloody. His clothes were torn, and a large gash covered his side, a black eye and a trail of blood running down his face. He looked a mess, and Tommy was reminded just how close to death he had come. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. Tubbo started, glancing down at his hands and shrugged. 

“I’ll live,” he said dismissively. “I’m just worried about your wing - I-I don’t know much about tending to wings,” he admitted quietly. 

During the wars, it was usually Wilbur who had carefully wrapped Tommy’s wings whenever they were wounded. Wilbur, who would sit behind him, laughing as Tommy ranted about whatever had gone wrong, and how it wasn’t his fault he’d got hurt. Wilbur, whose gentle hands had healed his wings so he could fly again. 

“It’s okay,” Tommy said quietly. He hadn’t missed how Tubbo had dodged his question. “We just need to get home.”

A flicker of concern crossed Tubbo’s face, exhaustion following a moment later before it was all covered behind a blank expression of hard determination. 

“Do you know where we are?” he asked, and Tommy shook his head. He didn’t want to think about how far they probably were from the main hub. Maybe if he’d kept his bearings when they had entered the Nether, he could figure out the vague direction it would be in. But he had no idea which way they had run. 

It suddenly dawned on him just how much trouble they were in. Trapped in the nether with nothing but a netherite axe between them, wounded, hurt, and being hunted. 

“We don’t have any gold,” he muttered, because out of all the problems they currently faced, that was the one his brain decided to fixate on. Maybe if they had gold they could take shelter in a bastion, or near piglins. But with no gold, the Nether was a much more terrifying place. 

“We need to move soon,” Tubbo said quietly, and Tommy read the unspoken words. Dream would be after them soon. They needed to keep moving. 

Tommy nodded and taking a deep breath, he struggled to his feet, swaying and putting out a hand to support himself. The wall was uncomfortably hot and he gave a low hiss, pulling his hand back and swaying again. 

Tubbo appeared beside him, a silent offer, a silent request as he swayed himself. Tommy leaned into him, letting Tubbo use him as support as much as he got support from his friend. 

Tommy carefully spread out his good wing to cover Tubbo as much as he could as they slipped out of their cave into the stifling heat of the Nether. 

There was nothing recognisable nearby and Tommy fought down a rush of panic. 

“Aren’t people who’re lost supposed to stay still?” he muttered. Tubbo glanced up at him. 

“They’re not usually being chased,” he said. “And that’s assuming anyone is actually looking for us. Except…” He trailed off, his face pale. 

Tommy paused a moment longer, trying to gauge their direction. Finally, he made up his mind - it was a guess, and a slim one at that, but he was sure enough it was the right way he was willing to try. 

“Come on,” he said and began to move slowly forward. Tubbo didn’t resist, moving along beside him. 

“How do you know?” he asked quietly. 

“Trust me, they call me the ‘ooman GP-” Tommy trailed off with a small sigh, something twisting in his chest. What he wouldn't give for Techno to be here right now. And not the Techno who had destroyed L’manberg, not the Techno who had sided with Dream. 

The Techno he had looked up to. Had seen as a hero, as a legend, as someone to be like. The Techno who had carefully helped him put his shattered and damaged pieces back together after his exile. The Techno who had put up with all his annoying tendencies - and Tommy knew he had a lot. 

That Techno was gone, Tommy told himself. He had refused to compromise, had refused to see things from any other perspective. 

Had refused to see how much he had hurt Tommy. 

Tommy scowled, shaking the thoughts back and focusing on the task at hand. 

Tubbo was uncomfortably warm beside him in the heat of the Nether, but he refused to let go. He wasn’t sure if either of them would really be able to stand without support anyway. 

It was hot. A dry, dry, horrible heat that felt like it was sucking all the moisture from the air. Tommy was gasping before they had gone too far, lips cracked and hurting, Tubbo shaking slightly beside them. He knew they wouldn’t last long - not in their condition, and not without supplies or food. 

The axe of peace was heavy in his hand, but Tommy refused to let go. It was their only protection, the only thing he still _had_. 

He had lost Ghostbur’s weapons. He wasn’t going to lose Techno’s as well. 

A soulsand desert stretched out before them and Tommy felt his heart sink. He glanced behind him, terrified at the possibility of seeing a green and glowing purple figure following them. 

“We need to cross it,” he said quietly and prime he hoped he was going the right way. If he was leading them deeper into the Nether he was leading them to their deaths. 

Tubbo nodded, breathing heavily. It was too hot and dry to even sweat properly - the moisture evaporated almost instantly. It was an unnatural, uncomfortable and deadly heat. 

The soulsand clung to their feet, gripping at them, dragging them back and slowing their progress to a crawl. It wrapped around Tommy’s foot, gripping onto his shoe and he stumbled, tugging his foot free but leaving the shoe behind. When he placed his foot down the uneven sand seared his foot and he gasped, skipping a pace. 

Tubbo glanced up at him in concern, but Tommy shook his head. They couldn’t afford to stop moving. He just had to grit his teeth and bear the pain. 

He had no idea how long they had been slogging through the sand, pain accompanying every step, when Tubbo cried out, stumbling forward and dropping to his knees. An arrow had appeared in his shoulder, blood drying instantly on his shirt. 

“Tubbo,” Tommy said, his voice hoarse. He was so thirsty - the Nether drained you, sucked the life out of you and stole all your liquid. “We need to move.” He hated that they had to, hated that they didn't even have the time to tend to the wound. But they had no choice. 

Another arrow skipped across the sand behind him and Tommy turned to see a skeleton, drawing back its bow again. Tommy limped in front of Tubbo, stretching his wing wide, snarling at it. 

It fired, missing its shot and Tommy changed forward, gripping the axe of peace in both hands. It took two slices and the skeleton was a pile of bones on the ground. 

Tommy carefully picked up its bow and the two arrows it left behind and limped back to where Tubbo had struggled to his feet again, one hand gripping his shoulder. He silently handed the bow and arrows to Tubbo. 

Again, they began moving, silent but for their heavy breathing and grunts of pain. Tommy’s vision was blurring, but he had no water to shed tears. 

Were they going to be trapped here forever? 

He almost wanted Dream to come. At least that might be a quick death. 

He almost didn’t notice when the soulsand ended. They were a few feet into the netherack when he finally did, looking up to see the lava sea stretching out beside them, miles below. Tubbo shifted beside him, eyes blurred with pain. 

“Do you recognise anything?” he croaked. Tommy shook his head, continuing to march forward. 

Surely they were nearly at the portal? They’d travelled about a day in the Overworld. He had no idea how long they’d been walking, but it would take considerably less time to get home again. 

If they were going the right way. 

A haunting cry split the air and Tommy froze, Tubbo stiffening beside him. They looked out over the lava, and Tommy could vaguely make out the elegant white shape of a ghast. 

“Cover,” he rasped. Tubbo nodded, moving as quickly as he could for the edge of the cliffside. Tommy followed, gripping his hand, glancing back to see if the ghast had spotted them. 

It screamed, and Tommy winced, pressing his hands to his ears. The sound was so loud it made him feel nauseous. 

Heat washed past them and somehow they managed to move faster, the explosion rocking their world and sending somehow even warmer air washing over them. 

Tommy glanced back, just in time to see another fireball shooting in their direction. There wasn’t time to do anything, so he grabbed Tubbo, pulling him to one side and flinging out his good wing. 

Fire burst over it and he cried out, falling to the ground, Tubbo motionless underneath him. Pain, pain, pain, his feathers were burning, the foul smell filling the air. He gasped, clawing at the hot ground, eyes unable to summon the tears he wanted. 

Tubbo shifted underneath him, rolling out from under his wing. Tommy could vaguely make out the sound of an arrow being fired, then another, then the shrieking cry of a ghast in pain. 

“I’m out,” Tubbo cried. He laid his hands on Tommy’s shoulder and Tommy gave a choking, dry sob. Everything hurt. 

The ghast shrieked again and Tommy knew he had to move. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand, shaking. Tubbo helped as best he could, but Tommy could see from his expression every movement hurt. 

The ghast shrieked one more time, but this wasn’t a shot. Tommy glanced back at it in time to see it die, vanishing into smoke. He stepped back unsteadily, Tubbo beside him, stretching out his aching, aching wing in an effort to protect his friend. 

A figure bounded the hill, a crossbow held loosely in his grip. The white mask drew another dry sob from Tommy’s throat. 

He should have known they would never be able to get away. All this pain had been for nothing. 

“There you are!” Dream called, stepping lightly towards them. Tommy wrapped his wing around Tubbo, drawing him close, stepping back again, heart beating quickly. 

There was a crack in the wall behind them. 

He could see a corner of cobblestone through the crack.

“Tubbo,” he whispered. “You need to go.” 

“Wh-” Tubbo looked up at him, shaking his head determinedly. “No, I’m not leaving you.” 

Tommy pressed the axe of peace into Tubbo’s hands. 

“Go. Please, he won’t kill me. Don’t lose it.” 

“No - Tommy, your wings.” 

He shivered at the reminder. But it would be worth it if he knew Tubbo was alive. 

“Please,” he said weakly. “If one of us doesn’t get out, everyone will only hear Dream’s story. I’ll buy you time.” 

Dream was stepping closer, swinging his crossbow with casual ease. Tommy shoved Tubbo, pressing the axe into his hand and forcing him into the small gap. 

“Tomm-” Tubbo tried, but Tommy shoved him again, making sure he had actually gone before turning to face Dream, stretching his burnt and shaking wing as wide as he could. 

“You found me,” Tommy said. His throat ached, and everything hurt so much anyway, how much worse could losing his wings be? Tubbo had a chance and that was all that mattered. 

“Are you ready to listen to me now, Tommy?” Dream asked. “You should have learned by now - I know what’s best.” 

Tommy wanted to curse him out. Really, he did. He could already think of at least five devastating and colourful insults. But he was _exhausted_ , and everything hurt and he couldn't quite get the words out. 

Dream was right, though. Every time Tommy had gone against him, it had only resulted in pain. L’manberg. The duel. Exile. Running away. Doomsday. And Tommy was so, so tired. 

Maybe if he did what he was told, just got it over with, his friends could be safe. 

At least if Dream was taking the time to cut his wings off Tubo would have the chance to escape. 

His wing drooped and he dropped his hands. 

“Fine,” he spat. “Green prick,” he muttered under his breath. Maybe he would go along with it for now, but that didn’t mean he had to _like_ it. 

“Good to hear,” Dream said, and the smirk was clear in his voice. Tommy glared at him, then limped forward slowly as Dream held out a hand. Suddenly, though the impulse repulsed him, he wanted to feel the comforting touch that he’d grown used to in exile, even if it often brought pain. He didn’t care anymore. 

An arrow skipped on the rock between them.

Tommy started, staring at the spot for a long moment, brain taking a while to catch up. Then he looked up slowly, turning to look at the rise beside him. 

Dream was looking up as well, his mask making it impossible to see his reaction. But when Tommy turned to see what - or who - he was looking at, his heart skipped a beat. 

Figures were standing on the rise behind him, Punz, a bow in hand, his eyes hard. Behind him stood Sapnap, Sam, Quackity, others Tommy couldn’t process. 

They had come. 

They had all come for _him._

“I’m sorry Dream,” Punz said, stepping forward, switching his bow out for a glittering, deadly sword. “But you should have paid me more.” 

Tommy took an uncertain step towards the cliff face, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Before he could fully react, Dream darted forward, grabbing his arm and hauling him backwards. 

He let out a cry of surprise, stumbling over the uneven, hot ground. 

“Let him go, Dream,” Sapnap said, eyes hard, sword tight. 

“Let him go.” 

A voice came from behind them and Dream started behind Tommy. Carefully, he let Tommy go, shoving him forward. Tommy collapsed to his knees, shaking, eyes blurring. Vaguely he was aware of Eret, Sapnap, Sam, Punz, others, surrounding Dream but he was shaking too much to properly process it all. 

“Tommy?” 

A soft, comforting voice spoke and he looked up to see Puffy leaning over him, her eyes full of concern and grief. Tommy swallowed thickly, eyes painfully dry because he had no water left in him. 

“Tubbo,” he croaked. Tubbo was still out there. Tubbo was alone. 

Someone helped him to a sitting position, supporting his back, muttering over the state of his wings. The touch made his skin crawl, but he didn't have the energy to resist. People were talking around him, whispering, their words floating out of reach. 

Something cool was pressed against his lips and Tommy gasped as he felt the blessed cool sense of water. He swallowed quickly, gasping, hands reaching to grab the bottle. 

“Easy,” someone said. “Take it slowly.” 

“We got you.” 

The water was taken away and Tommy breathed, feeling his whole body shaking. 

“Tubbo,” he tried again. They needed to know. They needed to find Tubbo. “He needs help.” 

“It’s okay,” he was vaguely aware of Puffy’s voice again, drifting into his understanding. “Quackity, Ranboo, Niki and Jack have gone to find him. Punz, Sam and Sapnap are taking care of Dream. You’re safe, okay?” 

The water was returned and Tommy swallowed it again, feeling the blessed relief of water flowing down his throat. He never wanted to stop drinking. 

But he was exhausted, and the world was spinning and everything was so hot, and Puffy’s hand on his back was so soft and gentle and they were looking for Tubbo and he collapsed into darkness. 

~*~

Tubbo hadn’t wanted to run. He didn’t even know _why_ he had run - it had all just happened so fast. Tommy had shoved him and the axe was heavy in his hands and then he had heard Dream’s voice and instinct had kicked in. 

He had run. He had left Tommy behind and ran like the coward he was. 

He stumbled through the Nether, moving further and further away, barely noticing where he was going. Finally, he tripped, collapsing and falling to the ground. His shoulder burned - the arrow grating painfully against his bones. 

He struggled to a sitting position, curling into a tiny scoop on the side of the cliff face, gripping the axe of peace in one hand. He should go back. He should go back he should stop being such a coward. 

Why hadn’t Tommy just let him die? All of this could have been avoided, and now Tommy was going to have his wings ripped from him and Tubbo wasn’t even brave enough to try and help him. 

Some friend he was. 

About a good a friend as he was president. 

A failure. A failure and a pushover and a yes man and an idiot. 

He was sobbing, dry, silent sobs that shook his shoulders. He hugged his knees, burying his face in them and sobbed, gasping for breath, the hot air suffocating. 

He deserved to die here. 

The sobs shook his whole form and he shuddered, gasping and trying not to make any sound but he couldn’t help it. He was working into a frenzy and he knew - he knew that somewhere Dream was dragging Tommy to isolation and darkness again. Or worse, pinning him down and cutting his wings. 

He gasped again, choking and sobbing, his whole body shaking and shuddering. He didn’t _care_ if anything found him - part of him wanted it to. He had abandoned Tommy and he deserved everything he got. 

He had exiled Tommy, exiled his best friend. He was the cause of Tommy’s trauma and PTSD and pain. He had done that, and now he was grounding his friend as surely as he was welding the weapon himself. 

Slowly, his choking sobbing gasps began to fade and he leaned against the side of the rock, not caring that it burned his cheek slightly. He closed his eyes, shaking, exhausted, just wanting to sleep and never wake up. 

“...bo?” 

Someone was calling. Tubbo froze, pressing a hand over his mouth to cut off the last of his sobs and biting his lip hard as his shoulder moved. His head was pounding and he gripped the axe tightly, daring whatever - whoever - it was to find him. Either he’d kill them or they’d kill him and either way he didn’t care. 

“Tubbo!” 

They were calling for him. He pressed himself further into his hiding spot, heart pounding. Why were they looking for him? Had they realized his part in all that had gone wrong? Was he finally going to be locked up in the prison? 

“Tubbo! Where are you?” 

More than one. He could make out a number of voices, familiar. Almost comforting. But he wasn’t going to reveal himself. Maybe they would pass him by and leave him to die like he deserved. 

“Tubbo!” This voice was very close, and a moment later he could make out the tall figure of Ranboo, moving through the dim red light of the Nether. Tubbo still didn’t move, knuckles white around the axe of Peace, hand still pressed over his mouth. 

“Tub-” Ranboo turned, and suddenly they locked eyes and Tubbo didn’t know why but he started shaking. “Tubbo!” 

Ranboo rushed to his side, kneeling beside him and reaching a hand out. Tubbo shrank back, not even sure why. 

“Uh.. okay, hey, it’s okay. We’re here to take you home, okay…” Ranboo glanced up, then back down at Tubbo, shifting nervously, clearly out of his depth. “Hoo boy... stay here a minute.” He stood up, waving at someone in the distance. “I found him!” Then he crouched back down beside Tubbo, eyes full of concern. 

Tubbo finally managed to pull his hand away from his mouth, wrapping it around the handle of the axe of peace as well. Ranboo glanced down at it, then back up at Tubbo, then glanced into the distance. 

“Is Tommy okay?” Tubbo asked, his voice hoarse and rough. Ranboo nodded quickly, and if he had had any more tears to shed Tubbo would. 

“He’s okay, he’s uh - he’s a little - well, a lot - shaken up. But we found him and uh, and Dream’s being locked in the prison.” 

Tubbo nodded, the information not quite processing. Tommy was alive, that was all that mattered. 

A moment later Quackity was beside him, helping him drink soothing, cool, refreshing water. Then Niki was at his side, gentle hands removing the arrow from his shoulder and binding his wound. Then Jack arrived, helping him to his feet and they began to move through the Nether. 

He barely followed what happened next. He was vaguely aware of them meeting another group of people just outside the main hub. Vaguely aware of discussion around him, the words swirling out of his reach. Niki was holding his hand and he focused on that because otherwise, he would collapse. 

Cold air washed over him, slapping him into his senses for a moment as they stepped through the portal. It was raining, and Tubbo had never been happier to feel the drops of water on his face. He looked up, feeling the rain soothe his burnt cheek, ease his headache a little. 

Eret was standing in the centre of the small group gathered around the portal. In his arms he carried Tommy, limp and unresponsive, his unbound wing dangling towards the ground, burnt and damaged. 

“Tommy,” Tubbo whispered, breaking free of Niki’s grasp and moving to his friend’s side. He gripped Tommy’s hand, far too hot but at least that meant he was alive. 

Eret started, looking down at Tubbo, his conversation forgotten for the moment. 

“He’s okay,” he said evenly, his voice soothing. “I’m not sure how to tend to his wings though.” 

The assembled group turned their attention onto Quackity, as the only other winged hybrid present. Tubbo couldn’t follow the conversation, gripping Tommy’s hand and staring at his friend’s face. 

“Philza,” he whispered suddenly. When no one heard him he glanced up, meeting Ranboo’s gaze. “Wilbur used to look after Tommy’s wings,” he said softly. “He learned from Phil. Maybe we can take Tommy there?” 

Ranboo’s face lit up and he nodded, and having said his piece, Tubbo zoned out of the conversation again. He was swaying, he knew, but he gripped Tommy’s hand, the axe of peace still in his other. The rain was nice. It was cool, it was wet, it was everything the Nether wasn’t. 

“Tubbo.” Someone was calling his name and he started, looking up to see Eret speaking evenly to him. Somehow without him noticing, despite still gripping his hand, Tommy had been handed over to Puffy, who was carrying him with surprising ease for her small stature. “Puffy and Ranboo are going to take Tommy to Philza and see if he can help. If you come with me I’ll tend your wounds as best you can and you can get some rest.” 

Tubbo blinked, gripping Tommy’s hand a little tighter, a sudden clenching fear filling his chest. He shook his head, stepping a little closer to Tommy’s limp form. He wasn’t going to leave his best friend alone again. 

A muted conversation drifted out of his reach again and Tubbo just stood, tightening his grip on the two things he was holding. Finally, Puffy turned towards the portal and Tubbo went with her. 

Stepping back into the Nether was the hardest thing he had ever done. The oppressive heat almost knocked him over and he shuddered, shutting his eyes for a long moment. Every step ached and he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep, but he needed to know if Tommy was going to be alright. 

Halfway there, Tommy was shifted to Ranboo’s back and Tubbo found himself holding Puffy’s hand instead, staring at Tommy in front of him, refusing to let him out of his sight. 

The sharp change of temperature woke Tubbo out of his half doze when they exited the portal, but the snow up to his ankles soon faded into background discomfort and he felt himself zoning out again. 

At some point, Puffy must have picked him up because something warm pressed against his side and it didn’t ache quite so much. 

Muted conversations happened over his head and he struggled to keep his eyes open, feeling rough wood under his feet. He saw faces, Puffy, pleading in her eyes. Ranboo, looking concerned and anxious. Tommy, eyes closed, unconscious. Phil, Techno, their faces flashing past almost too fast for him to register. 

But they had made it, and Tommy was safe and how, Tubbo didn’t know, but he found himself curled on a comfortable bed, a warm body pressed beside him, feathers tickling his nose, his aches and burns hurting him a little less than they were before. 

~*~

Tommy woke to someone gently preening his wing. He stiffened, tensing at the touch, heart pounding quickly, but after a long moment began to relax, the soothing motion familiar and comforting. 

He was lying on his front, one wing tucked behind him, the other spread out off whatever bed he was on, careful fingers working at his feathers. Something warm and comforting was pressed into his right side, a rhythmic movement coming from whatever it was. 

Low humming filled the room, along with the crackle of fire and Tommy felt himself relax even more. It was a familiar tune and his heart clenched slightly as he recognised it. 

“Wilbur?” he muttered, before remembering that there was no possible way it could be Wilbur and squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Not quite, mate.” The preening paused a moment and Tommy shifted his head, wincing at the headache that evoked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Phil, sitting beside the bed, Tommy’s wing spread over his lap. His own wings were tucked comfortably behind him, and once again Tommy felt the familiar sense of envy that came with seeing how beautiful and powerful those wings were.

“Oh,” he said quietly, unsure of how to respond. Why had Phil even let him in here? He was a nobody - a scrappy, annoying little friend of Wilbur’s who had tagged along to everything. And sure, maybe once he had seen Phil as a father, maybe once Phil had seen him as a son. 

But that had been a long time ago. 

Tommy pulled his wing back, suddenly not wanting to feel Phil’s fingers in his feathers. He wanted to sit up, but he knew that would mean moving far more than he was ready for. 

“How’re you feeling?” Phil asked. Tommy shrugged, wincing slightly. 

“Bit crap,” he admitted and Phil chuckled softly. It was almost too normal. Tommy didn’t like it. 

“Fair enough. You were a right mess. You both were.” 

Tubbo, of course.

He started, pushing himself up and collapsing almost as quickly, head spinning. 

“Take it easy, mate. Tubbo’s okay.” Phil gestured and Tommy turned his head to see the familiar shaggy hair of his best friend beside him. He let out an uneven breath, closing his eyes before turning back to look at Phil. It was a little awkward from where he was lying, but Phil made no effort to move. 

“Why are we here?” he asked. 

“I’m the only one who knows proper wing care anywhere nearby,” Phil said. “They weren’t sure what to do.” 

“Oh,” Tommy said. He felt a sudden tensing fear - had he and Tubbo been left here? What if Techno wanted to get revenge? What if they decided they didn’t want Tommy and Tubbo around anymore and threw them out? 

He shifted his hand, searching until he found Tubbo’s and gripped it tightly. Tubbo shifted in his sleep, curling closer into Tommy. 

“Calm down,” Phil said, a faint laugh in his voice. “You’re safe here.” 

“Am I?” Tommy demanded, without thinking. 

“Course. I’m not going to throw you out.” 

“Techno might,” Tommy said. Again, he wasn’t thinking, but part of him didn't really care. 

Part of him didn't really blame Techno for not wanting him around. 

“Nah, he won’t throw you out while you’re still recovering.” He paused, reaching for Tommy’s wing again and Tommy stiffened, heart beating quickly as he jerked back quickly. “Easy mate, I just wanted to preen them a little more. Have you been taking care of them?” 

“Why do you care?” Tommy asked. An expression of almost hurt flickered across Phil’s face, but he shrugged, drawing his hands back. 

“You’ve got beautiful wings - so long as you look after them,” he said, almost dismissively. 

“Yeah, might have been nice to have someone show me _how_ ,” Tommy spat. He shut his eyes, knowing he shouldn’t antagonize the people he was sheltering with. 

“That’s not fair,” Phil said, accusation in his voice. Tommy scowled, reluctantly letting go of Tubbo’s hand to push himself up. Everything ached and his head spun, but he managed to struggle into a sitting position, reaching back to find Tubbo’s hand again as he shifted. 

“Is it not? You know who taught me how to preen? Wilbur. You know who taught me how to fly? Wilbur? You know who patched up my wings when I damaged them? _Wilbur did_ .” His eyes were flashing, and he only wasn’t shouting because he didn’t want to wake Tubbo. “And you destroyed his country, ground his memory into bedrock. And you -" His voice shook but he kept talking. "You _killed_ _him_." 

“I had no choice,” Phil said, his voice a little more guarded, a little more hurt and Tommy couldn’t help but be satisfied that he had struck a nerve. 

“Sure, because you couldn’t have _helped_ him.” 

“He asked me to! What was I supposed to do? He had been twisted beyond help. He wanted to die.” 

“Did you know that I wanted to die?” Tommy asked blood pounding in his ears. He was shaking, his free hand gripping the edge of his bed so tightly. Phil started at the comment - it was clear this was news to him. “Did you know that I thought about doing it? That I stared down lava and thought about how quick it would be to just be swallowed up?” He was crying, but he didn’t care. “That I made a tower so high and stood there for so long trying to build up the courage?” Phil opened his mouth to say something, but Tommy didn’t give him the chance. “If I had asked you then, would you have killed me too?” 

He stared at Phil, not letting him break eye contact, not letting him escape the question. 

“Tommy -” Phil began, hesitating. “It’s not the same-” 

“Sure,” Tommy scoffed. “I don’t care. I don’t want to know. Y’know, I thought that once you could be a father. But clearly, you can’t. Not even to your own son. So piss off. Thank you for tending to my wings, but piss off. I don’t want to see you anymore. Not until you acknowledge that what you’ve done has hurt people.” 

Phil hesitated, seeming to want to say more but Tommy didn’t listen. He dropped back down onto his stomach, turning his head away from Phil. A moment later, he heard the man stand and walk quietly across the room, closing the door as he left. 

A moment later, Tubbo opened his eyes. 

“You okay?” he asked softly, and Tommy nodded. He rolled onto his side, lifting his wing and wrapping it tightly around both of them. 

“I’m okay,” he said quietly. “We’ll be okay.” 

Tubbo hummed, moving closer and curling into Tommy. 

“M’sorry,” he muttered finally. 

“What for?” Tommy asked. 

“....Everything. I’ve messed up so much. I’m a bad friend.” 

“I don’t care,” Tommy said quietly. He hesitated… letting out a long breath. “You hurt me too, but at least you’ve apologised. At least you’ve realized. And I’m not innocent either. I’m sorry too.” 

“Let’s stop hurting each other,” Tubbo muttered and Tommy snorted. 

“Agreed,” he said quietly, wishing the same agreement could be made with the other inhabitants of the house. 

~*~

They left two days later, the tension of the building too much for either of them to take. They saw Ranboo mostly, nervously visiting and checking up on them, changing their bandages and talking to them. Phil occasionally replaced the bandages on Tommy’s wings, but they didn't talk, and the tension was thick until he left again. He left them with a list of instructions of how to care of Tommy's wings, vanishing into the basement after handing the list to Tubbo without a word.

Techno wasn’t around. 

He was waiting for them at the portal, a dog by his side that Tubbo eyed nervously. He stepped forward, striding confidently towards the two teenagers and stopping a few paces in front of them. 

Tommy refused to be intimidated, staring him down, heart beating quickly. 

“Techno - I…” he began, trying to figure out the best place to start. He wanted to apologise, he wanted to make it up, wanted things to go back to how they were. But he had no idea where to begin, no idea if Techno would even listen to him. 

“I think you dropped this,” Techno said, not letting him talk. He held out his hand, the axe of peace gripped tightly in his grasp. Tommy started, staring at it, then back up at Techno. 

“What?” he asked. Techno shrugged. 

“Ranboo made me a new one. If you don’t want it, I can keep it though.” 

“I -” Tommy carefully took it, heart beating rapidly in case this was a trap. Techno nodded once, turning to stride past them back towards the cottage. “Techno I…” There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to fix. Techno paused, glancing back at him. “I'm sorry,” he said finally. 

“It might be best if you two stay away from here for a while,” Techno said. Then he turned and walked briskly away, cape fluttering behind him, dog matching his pace. 

Tommy stared at the axe in his hand, breath in his mouth. 

"Thank you," he breathed softly.

Maybe things could be fixed after all. Slowly, with work and pain and effort. 

But maybe compromises could be made. 

**Author's Note:**

> Spot the points I stalled for ten minutes because I don't like writing things I wouldn't say and I don't swear which makes writing TommyInnit Very Difficult at times. 
> 
> Anyway I have a number of thoughts about how SBI fit into the dsmp lore which includes Wilbur finding Tommy and being like 'you are mine now', Phil constantly being off with Techno adventuring because he knows Wilbur is able to look after himself and in his mind him leaving Wilbur alone is a sign of trust and something good while all Wilbur wants is for his father to be proud of. Tommy looking up to both Phil and Techno while Wilbur harbours some resentment towards them both. Uuuh and Phil and Techno stumbling across Tubbo one day and being like 'hey, Wilbur likes kids, he's already got one annoying child following him, why not two!" and dump Tubbo on Wilbur.


End file.
